this year's for me and you
by notwithhaste
Summary: Originally written for Darvey Secret Santa fic exchange. At a New Year's Eve ball thrown by Louis, Donna takes part in the dating auction. With Harvey there, the evening goes as well as you'd expect. A bidding war, a jealous Harvey and some hard truths.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I originally wrote this for the Darvey Secret Santa exchange on Twitter, so if it looks familiar, that's because it was posted anonymously under that account first. :) Reposting to my own account for the sake of having all my fics in the same place. :)

Written for a prompt: _a gala; a drop dead gorgeous Donna getting loads of male attention; a jealous and angry Harvey; rooftop scene; "That's how I love you"; Scottie is there_

.

There's about four hours left to this year and Harvey is spending it at a New Year's Eve charity gala which is exactly the opposite of how he wants to be spending it, which is anywhere else.

The event has been organized by Louis and is, by the looks of it, being attended by everyone the firm has ever represented, contested with or existed simultaneously as, and Harvey is equal parts impressed by this as he is horrified by the fact. He's already seen at least three people that hate his guts and he has no doubt in his mind that number is bound to quadruple by the end of the night.

Looking around, he scans the crowd for a friendly face which is just his way of not admitting to himself the person he's actually looking for is Donna. She's nowhere to be seen which doesn't alarm him. She's definitely coming, that much he knows. He looks down at his watch. She's just taking her sweet time.

Louis is here, of course, and he's already said hello to Katrina and chatted to Alex and Zane; even Benjamin the IT guy is here. He's bored already and Donna is his partner in crime at events like these. Tapping two impatient fingers against his leg, he tries not to look at the door. She's coming. She's part of the main event, after all.

.

 _Harvey glances up when he hears her entering his office. She's wearing a green dress in keeping with the season. She's been trying that bit harder this year, and he's noticed. He's been noticing her a lot recently._

 _"Donna."_

 _"Harvey." She places some documents on the desk. "The funds have been approved, I have the paperwork here."_

 _"Thank you," he looks up from his papers as she takes a seat across from him, crossing her legs. "Anything I can help you with?"_

 _"Are you going to the gala?"_

 _"You mean Louis' New Year's Galapalooza?" He rolls his eyes at the ridiculous term Louis has coined, sitting back in his chair. "Yeah, I kinda have to. You?"_

 _"I kinda have to, as well." She shoots him a look. "I'm part of the fund raiser."_

 _It takes a beat, but Harvey gets there. "You're auctioning yourself off for charity?" he grins. He can hardly believe his ears._

 _"Don't," she waves him off. "Louis pretty much volunteered me."_

 _"How do you mean, volunteered?"_

 _"I think his exact words were, and I quote," she looks up, narrowing her eyes, "Donna, will you please do this, too late I already put your name down, please please don't be mad this is really important to me."_

 _Harvey snorts._

 _She pokes her chin at him, "What about you?"_

 _"What about me."_

 _"Apparently the men are being auctioned off, too. Louis is an equal opportunity pimp," she widens her eyes as she does the air quotes, then extrapolates. "Again, his words, not mine."_

 _Harvey snorts. "Donna," he twirls the pen between his fingers. "The fact I'm ringing in a new year with Louis is charity enough."_

 _She eyes him suspiciously. "You gave money, didn't you."_

 _"I sure as hell did!" If a grand was what it would take to let him drink in peace, he was more than happy to donate._

 _"Where is your holiday spirit?"_

 _Harvey leans back, considering her. "You're not sufficiently annoyed by this."_

 _"It's a worthy charity close to his heart. Besides, it's just a bit of holiday fun."_

 _He narrows his eyes, pointing the pen at her, "He owes you."_

 _She shrugs innocently, "Maybe he does."_

 _"What is it?"_

 _"That's for me to know, and for you to find out," she raises an eyebrow at him. It's easy and it's flirty. There's been a lot of that, too. He feels like it might be going somewhere. Like they could finally be ready._

 _He chuckles low in his throat. "The Louis Whisperer."_

 _Donna picks at an invisible lint on her dress. "I go by many names."_

 _"Seems like you're not the only one, either."_

 _"How do you mean?"_

 _"Samantha agreed to do it."_

 _Donna's eyebrows skyrocket, "What did she get in exchange? His firstborn? Is Sheila aware of this?"_

 _Harvey huffs, sitting up. "Let's just say, starting with January 1st, Warren and Liebowitz are getting superior representation," he makes air quotes of his own, repeating what Samantha told him the day before in the break room._

 _"Client trading," she shakes her head, smiling. "Borderline moral, how in the spirit of the holiday season." Hands on the arms of the chair, she stands up. "Too bad about you, pretty. Could have made some woman with more money than sense very happy."_

 _"You know, Donna," he says suggestively. "If you want to have dinner with me, all you have to do is ask."_

 _She laughs and he wishes she'd take his flirtation seriously. He wishes he had the guts to not leave it up for interpretation at all. Maybe in the new year._

 _Donna heads for the door but there's still one thing he's curious about. "Hey," he stops her before she leaves. "Are you bringing anyone?"_

 _Donna opens her mouth and there's a shadow of something that crosses her face; a beginning of an expression that he doesn't quite catch. "No," she replies. "Not bringing anyone."_

 _He nods and she turns, her fingers patting the glass frame of his office door. She walks out and down the corridor. Harvey watches her go and tries really hard not to dwell on the fact that she never returned his question._

.

The first thing Harvey notices when Donna makes her entrance is all the red.

It's New Year's Eve, so really, it's fitting. On the other hand, she doesn't wear red that often – something about her being a redhead, she told him once; he doesn't really remember. He thinks it's a load of bullshit, anyway. She looks stunning. The dress is simple and elegant and hugs her waist in just the way that makes his hands itch to touch her. It's uncanny how she makes these sort of events both bearable and maddening.

The second thing he notices is that she's alone. He thought she would be - she said she would be - but that was a couple of weeks ago, and this is New Year's Eve, after all. Most people here are coupled. She notices him right away, giving him a smile as she makes her way into the large ballroom. He smiles back his first genuine smile of the day.

He watches her make her way to him. It takes awhile as she's stopped by a few familiar faces. He observes her from where he's standing and she is radiant. The thing about Donna is, yeah she's beautiful, and she's charming and she's definitely a people person, but it's so much more than that. When she's talking to someone, she makes them feel valued and listened to; she makes them feel like they're the most important person in the room.

It can be intoxicating, that feeling. He knows that from personal experience.

There are a couple of men amongst the people who stop her to chat. He notices the way they look at her, the appreciative glances, and he can all but hear the corny lines she's being served from ten feet away. This is nothing new; he's watched Donna being ogled and wooed by men on many occasions over the years. It's funny how he hasn't gotten used to it at all. Not one bit.

He needs a drink.

With a throaty laugh, she extracts herself from a conversation and then she's by his side, fingers clutching his bicep. "I need a drink."

He groans, "Tell me about it." His hand moves to hover behind the small of her back – not touching, never touching – as he follows her to the nearest bar.

"Impressive turnout," she comments as they reach it, her eyes scanning the room. "Louis did well."

"Of course I did well. I took an event organizing course in my youth. I was a natural."

Harvey turns to find Louis standing behind him. "Louis. You look," he gives him a once-over. "Agitated. More so than usual."

"Damn right I'm agitated, Harvey. Sheila has twenty times her normal hormone levels." He turns to Donna, index sticking up in the air as if to prevent any potential critique, "I know she's carrying my child, she is a goddess and her body is a temple of life." Harvey makes a face he hopes adequately conveys his reluctance to hear any more on the subject. Louis ignores him, as usual. "But I swear to God, she is driving me insane."

"Okay," Donna draws out in question.

Louis is all too happy to elaborate. "On top of that, there are the pressures of being the newly appointed managing partner," he looks between them. "I need this to go well."

"Louis, relax," Donna is using her smooth Louis voice and he can totally see how she's The Whisperer. "Everything looks great, it's an amazing charity and we're here to support you," she reassures, squeezing his arm.

"Yeah, Louis," Harvey quips. "It's new year's, there's loads of booze, what could go wrong."

"I can't believe you just said that," Louis gives him a hard stare.

"Come on, look around." Harvey does so himself. "Everyone's having a good time. Relax," he says, slapping his shoulder.

"You think?"

"Yes," Donna interjects, hoping to put an end to this conversation. Harvey hopes the same.

Louis is nodding, "You're right, you're right. This is fine." He grabs her hands. "I couldn't have outdone myself without you."

"My pleasure, Louis," she says, adding. "Just remember about the –"

"Yes, yes, I know, I know."

Once he's gone, Harvey turns to her suspiciously, "What _did_ he promise you?"

Donna shrugs but doesn't answer, ordering the drinks instead. Handing him his scotch, she takes a generous mouthful of her drink. "Thank fuck for alcohol."

"Don't worry, Donna," he reassures her. "Someone will bid on you."

She rolls her eyes. "That's not what I'm worried about, believe me." She glances at the crowd. "The whole thing is wildly outdated, don't you think?"

"Regretting it now?"

"No," she sounds sure in her answer. "It's for a good cause and what better way to celebrate 2019 than auctioning myself off to rich men."

Harvey almost chokes on his drink. "Holy shit."

"You okay there?" she pats him lightly on the back.

Wiping his mouth, he nods. "Where's _your_ holiday spirit?" he teases her.

She surprises him with honesty, "In Cortland."

"How come you didn't go?"

"Would be kind of lonely with just me there," she explains. "My parents are spending Christmas in Paris."

"Paris. Together?"

"They're rekindling their romance."

"That's," he tries to think of a word and can't. "Nice."

"Yeah," she decides, and she sounds optimistic. "Never too late, apparently." She shoots him a quick sideways glance, but directs her eyes back at the crowd before he can detect any hidden meaning behind her words.

He wonders at the truth of it as they stand there, sipping their drinks and watching people arrive. It's felt like they've been on the verge of something for months now. But he's been putting it off – them – for so long, he's not sure where or how to even start. He's not usually introspective or nostalgic – or at least he tries his hardest not to be. It could be the season, the fact they're about to say farewell to yet another year where he didn't have the balls to give this a chance. She kissed him this year. It should have gone somewhere. They shouldn't be ringing in the new year together, but not. He shouldn't have to watch her grab a date with someone else. He should _be_ her date.

"I wonder which of these fine men will be having the pleasure of dining with Donna Paulsen," he muses, his voice lighter than he feels.

She smiles behind her glass, taking a sip. "I wonder."

A feeling of possessiveness washes over him then, and he's pretty sure he doesn't have the right which ironically makes the feeling all the stronger. He's wanted her for so long in so many ways the fact he's never made his move is irrelevant in his own mind.

Harvey's been toying with the idea of bidding on Donna since she told him she was doing it, but he wasn't sure how well-received that would be. He also had some vague plans about making an actual honest to God move, and _buying_ her just didn't have the same healthy feel as wooing her did.

She's swaying to the Sinatra being crooned in the background. His eyes trail from her face and her hair, over her shoulder and down her bare arm and he sees no reason not to touch her. Tapping his index on her elbow, he extends his hand, his eyebrows raised in question.

She looks down then up at him again. "Dancing to Christmas songs? Mister Grinch himself?"

He rolls his eyes, "I'm not a Grinch. I just don't do festive."

"That's the very definition of a Grinch."

"Donna," he says, his voice deep and patient. "Do you want to dance or not?"

"Well, when you ask so nicely," she trails off, but she's smiling and putting her flute down and then he's leading her to the dancefloor in the middle of the room.

There are more than a few couples dancing now, the evening certainly having picked up. Her skin feels warm and soft under his touch, familiar. The scent is different, though. "New perfume?"

She frowns at him, "Yes."

"What?"

"Nothing," she shakes her head. "Just surprised you'd notice."

"I notice," he says simply, looking at her as they start to move to the melody. "It's nice."

She seems fidgety. "I thought I'd try something new."

"New is good." His hand sliding up between her shoulder blades, he pulls her closer. "I like the other one better." They're dancing cheek to cheek so he can't see her reaction when he adds, "Smells more like Donna." He can feel her tucking her chin and lowering her head and he doesn't need to see her face to know that's a pretty good sign.

"I'll keep that in mind," she murmurs, her breath tickling the skin just above his collar. Her fingers are on the back of his neck but he feels them all the way down his spine.

They sway through a couple of songs and it's only halfway through the second one that he realizes he's closed his eyes and hasn't stopped smiling.

.

They go to get their refills and he is dragged into a conversation with one of their oldest clients. Donna excuses herself and he sees her chatting to a few people as she makes her way through the crowd. There are more than a few appreciative glances from the men, but she doesn't seem to notice and if she does, she certainly doesn't care. Harvey feels relieved each time she moves on from a conversation, which is probably the wrong thing to feel. He can't help it.

He loses sight of her somewhere between Fletcher telling him about his newest acquisition and his wife telling him he's far too handsome to be single which could be considered inappropriate if she wasn't a hundred and ten. They leave and he's left alone, thinks about tracking her down.

He's just looking at his watch when there's a hand on his back. "Hello, Harvey."

Looking up, he's genuinely surprised, "Scottie."

"Didn't expect to see me here?"

"No, I really didn't," is his honest answer. "What are you doing here? Did Louis invite you?"

"I'm old friends with the charity chairman, actually."

Harvey narrows his eyes, "You don't have old friends."

"What would you call yourself?" she challenges.

"The one that got away?" he smirks at her, taking a sip of his drink.

Scottie lets out a short laugh, "Your ego always was your most impressive attribute."

"You and I both know that's not true."

Scottie chuckles and it's nice how easy it feels. There's no undercurrent of tit-for-tat or anything waiting to happen and he finds he actually enjoys her company. It makes a pleasant change.

"Wanna grab a drink?"

She eyes him wearily, "I don't know, Harvey."

"Come on, Scottie," he says matter of fact. "It's a drink. I'm not asking for your hand in marriage."

She chuckles at that. "That'd be the day."

They make their way to the bar. "Macallan eighteen and a," he turns to look at her.

"A glass of champagne, please." She comes to stand next to him, thanking the bartender. "So. I see Donna is having a good time. Who's the tall dark and handsome?"

Harvey frowns. "She's here alone," he says, turning to her.

"Oh," she says. "Well, she might have come here alone but she's leaving with that guy, if he gets a say."

Harvey follows her gaze to where Donna is chatting to some guy. He looks vaguely familiar, though Harvey can't quite place him. He's in her ear and he must be fucking hilarious because she bursts out laughing at whatever it is he just said. She touches his arm when he leans in, her head falling down, a smile on her lips. He knows that expression. It used to be his.

"I take it you still haven't resolved your Donna complication then?" Scottie asks significantly.

Harvey tears his gaze away from Donna to focus on Scottie. To prove he can. "There _is_ no complication, Scottie. There never was."

Scottie lets out a laugh at that. "Right."

Things between him and Scottie may be easy and friendly, but there's no way he's discussing Donna with her. He switches to her favorite topic. "I hear you signed Rove Farms."

"I did," she inclines her head, raising her glass at him. "I hear they were one of the companies you guys were gunning for."

Harvey shrugs, "We thought we'd let you have this one." Raising his own glass in return, he adds, "Foley Fine Foods is a better fit for us anyway."

"Foley? Really," she sounds suitably impressed and normally, Harvey would be basking in it; he's too distracted by the hand on the small of Donna's back. He hears Scottie say something about competition and being on opposing sides again. He hums his agreement, makes some vaguely suitable comment, but he's not really listening. He watches as Donna lets out an easy laugh, patting the man's chest, briefly but with a familiarity Harvey finds unsettling.

And then he places him.

In the conference room, with Louis and Katrina and one of his own CEOs. Donna was there, too, and he only remembers it because he poked his head through to get Louis alone for a moment. Jacobs was breathing down his neck about speaking with the managing partner and Harvey had had about enough of the man's attitude.

"This is just sad now."

He blinks, refocusing his attention on Scottie. It's too late, though; she's noticed. "Sorry, I was just –"

"Oh, I know what you were just," she looks at him and it's playful, but there's a hint of sadness in her smile when she says, "You never were very good at fighting for the people you love."

"Scottie," he wants to deflect. He wants to apologize. For being a lousy boyfriend and a lousy ex-boyfriend and a lousy whatever the hell it was they were right now.

She waves him off. "Don't worry, Harvey. It's actually a relief." Finishing her drink, she answers his unspoken question, "I can just walk away from this particular complication now."

Harvey wishes to god he could do the same.

.

A scotch later, he's joined by Louis. "The auction is in half an hour." He frowns at Harvey, "You sure you don't want to get up there? I mean, it would be highly irregular to add someone at this late hour, but I'm sure they'd make an exception for a fine specimen like you."

Harvey puts his palm up, "I'm good."

"Okay."

"Hey, Louis," Harvey says, because he forgot to earlier. "Good job, man."

Louis smiles one of his wide smiles and Harvey thinks for a second he's going to hug him. Instead, Louis just nods, "Thank you, Harvey."

They stand like that until it gets a little uncomfortable for Harvey's liking. "Okay, that's enough," he says but it's meant fondly and Louis knows it. Changing the subject, Harvey asks as casually as he can muster, "Hey, what's the deal with Donna and your client."

Louis looks around, eyes landing on Donna, "Oh, Kessler. Nothing, why?"

Harvey shakes his head, "Just wondering."

"I know they worked pretty closely together on the merger," he continues. "He loves the theater."

"I bet he does," Harvey mutters to himself.

"You don't think," Louis starts, ending the sentence in some sort of a hand gesture Harvey doesn't really want to decipher.

"No, of course not. Donna doesn't date men she works with." Except they both know that's not strictly true. Also —

"They don't work together anymore," Louis is helpful to point out.

"Can't blame her for living her life," Harvey muses into his glass, remembering something she told him years ago.

Sheila comes to tell Louis it's time to get ready for his speech and Harvey is left alone. He watches Donna still talking to Kessler, animated and carefree. He thinks about going over there and introducing himself, get a read on the guy and the situation, but then Donna's eyes meet his and her smile falters as she stops mid-sentence, and he thinks better of it.

He turns his back to her and goes to get another drink.

.

Half an hour later, the charity chairman is introducing Louis to the stage. He comes on to applause, shakes hands with the committee. Harvey searches for Donna and finds her standing with Samantha right of the podium, ready to come on when needed.

She shoots him a small smile. He averts his eyes to Louis.

"A few months ago, I got mugged," Louis begins and Harvey starts paying attention. "I was just walking from my apartment to meet a client and some guy pointed a gun at my stomach and told me to do as he says or I'll get shot."

The room goes quiet, all eyes now on Louis. Taking a breath, he continues, "I don't want to go into too much detail because it's not the details that matter. It's how they stay with you and how unpredictably they appear, the images and the sounds and the overwhelming fear. God, the fear. It doesn't matter how old you are or how rich you are or how brave you are, the fear is crippling."

Louis pauses and Harvey catches his eye, giving him a little nod. He gives Louis a lot of shit, but he's got heart and he's got balls. Man, he's got balls.

Nodding back, Louis continues, "I was lucky. I got away pretty much unscathed. I also have an amazing support system, my wonderful fiancée and my friends and colleagues." He looks around the room, at Samantha and Donna, at Zane and then over at him before turning back to the crowd. "I also have the resources necessary to cope with the trauma. Not everyone is as fortunate." Turning around to the charity chairman, he says, "That's why the work that Forward Thinking does is so important. It helps people with PTSD move on beyond their traumas and enables them to live the life they remember living before they got robbed of the ability."

Harvey smiles, wondering if Louis wrote that little pun deliberately, but looking at him up there, passionate and earnest, he thinks probably not. As Louis wraps up his speech, urging people to donate generously, and leaves the stage to a thunderous applause, Harvey thinks maybe he's the right guy to be managing partner, after all.

 **.**

The auction itself is a pretty relaxed affair.

The auctioneer briefly explains the rules. Starting bid is a thousand dollars and the "date" is in no way romantic, which is a matter of course, each party can back out if ever they feel uncomfortable, and so on and so forth, let the games begin.

Samantha goes on first and she's a natural, he'll give her that. She is introduced and she makes her way to the center of the stage to take the microphone. She makes a few appropriate jokes then applauds Louis and the work the charity does. Harvey is only half listening, his eyes darting to where Donna is standing beside the podium, smiling up at the other woman, clapping emphatically when she finishes.

Samantha is a beautiful woman and there is no shortage of men – and women – bidding on her. In the end, it's Claridge, one of the real estate hotshots, who's the highest bidder and Harvey smirks. She's been trying to sign his company for months and there's no way in hell this is a coincidence. Harvey shakes his head and she shoots him a look as she walks off the stage. He raises a glass at her and doesn't mind one bit the smug look on her face.

It's Benjamin the IT guy being bid on next and that's a surprise. He's nowhere near at ease on stage as Samantha was which is not surprising. He does inspire quite a bidding war between two rich ladies well in their sixties which _is_ a surprise. Harvey watches with amusement and manages to go all of five minutes not thinking about Donna.

Ten minutes later and it's Donna's turn. He's so focused on her he misses Samantha coming to stand next to him.

"She looks gorgeous."

Harvey nods, ignoring the speculative look on her face, "She does." Changing the subject, he asks, "Signed Claridge yet?"

"This is a social event," she raises her eyebrows. "For a charity near and dear to Bernard's heart. It would be tacky to talk business tonight."

Harvey smirks, "You've done your homework."

Samantha's smile turns cocky, "Always." She points at the stage just as Donna is climbing it, "I wonder who's going to be the lucky guy." She leans in, adding in a conspiratory tone, "My money's on Kessler."

Hand balling into a fist by his side, Harvey manages to keep his voice even, "And why is that."

"They've been awfully cosy tonight, don't tell me you haven't noticed."

He watches as Donna shakes hands with the charity chairman, "He's our client." His voice belies his words, though. It should be an obstacle; somehow, he doubts it is.

Samantha doesn't seem to be buying it either. "I don't think that's going to stop a man like Kessler."

"A man like Kessler?"

"Yeah," she shrugs. "He seems like the kind of guy who goes after what he wants." She's looking at the stage and not at him, and Harvey isn't sure if she's trying to make a point or if he's reading too much into it. Probably the latter. He's had too much Scottie in his ear.

Luckily, he doesn't have to respond because there's a sound of the microphone and then Donna is being introduced. Harvey motions for another drink. "Make it a double."

.

"When Louis Litt asked me to do this, I have to admit I was a little reluctant," she tips her head to the side, narrowing her eyes, gesturing "a little" with her fingers. "But then he offered me a huge bonus and Robert Zane's office, and I could hardly say no to _that_." She looks over at Zane chuckling. "I'll expect your things gone by Friday, thank you, Robert." Harvey smiles despite himself. "But, no, really, all jokes aside. What actually won me over was his passion for this wonderful charity and having done some reading about what these people do, it's an absolute honor to contribute in any small way. And if that means being taken to a nice restaurant and a Broadway show, then so be it."

The crowd laughs and Samantha chuckles next to him, "I don't generally like people, but Donna. She sure is easy to like."

Harvey swallows, his eyes glued to the woman in question, "She sure is."

He doesn't have to look to know Samantha is staring at him. He ignores her.

The auction starts with the agreed upon sum of a thousand dollars. A couple of men he doesn't recognise get it up to three pretty quickly.

"Five thousand," he hears from his left and when he turns to her, Samantha is shrugging. "I'm only human, Harvey."

He thinks Samantha is starting to grow on him.

"Six thousand," comes from across the room. Harvey follows the voice and sure enough, it's Kessler, grinning proudly. He rolls his eyes, but when he looks back to the stage, he sees Donna is barely suppressing a smile.

A familiar feeling bubbles up in his chest and the words are out of his mouth before he can think better of them. "Ten thousand dollars."

"What the hell are you doing?" Samantha asks in a hushed voice and by the look on Donna's face, he can tell she's thinking the same. He doesn't have a fucking clue, if he's honest.

"Ten thousand dollars from the very generous gentleman by the bar. Do we hear –"

"Twelve thousand."

Son of a – "Fifteen thousand." Harvey averts his eyes from a confused Donna to Kessler, who doesn't seem confused at all. "No, you know what. Make that twenty thousand."

Shaking his head, Kessler lifts his hand. "Thirty thousand dollars."

Harvey doesn"t care about the money. He cares about beating this guy. He finishes his drink as the man on the podium starts, "Thirty thousand for the dinner with this lovely lady here. Going once, going twice –"

"Fifty thousand dollars," he says, putting his empty glass on the bar.

There are murmurs around the room and people are probably staring, but he ignores them. Kessler looks over at him expressionless, and Harvey smirks.

"Congratulations to the gentleman in the back."

He looks over at the stage, and there's Donna. Her eyes are wide and her face is blank, and he suddenly feels like he just crossed a line there's no going back from.

"Did it not occur to you she meant for him to win?" he hears Samantha ask next to him.

Harvey works his jaw, refusing to answer.

Samantha knows anyway. "That's the whole reason you bid, isn't it," she states and he thinks it's more with pity than despise. "Smooth, jackass."

Not taking his eyes off Donna, he nods. "Yeah."

He thinks he is.

.

He sees her approaching and she looks furious. She looks hot. He twirls his fingers over the bar, indicating for another drink.

Donna gives Samantha a tight smile, "Do you mind giving us a minute?"

"I was just leaving," she replies, taking her glass and shooting Donna a knowing look.

Harvey keeps his face neutral, steeling himself for what's coming.

Once Samantha is out of earshot, Donna turns to him, "You want to tell me what the hell just happened?"

"What happened, Donna," he starts casually, nodding at the bartender as he serves him. "Is that Forward Thinking's just received fifty grand and you get to spend a pleasant evening at Del Posto with your good friend Harvey."

"Don't give me that bullshit, Harvey," her tone is hushed because she's not one for a scene. He briefly thinks on the lobby and the I didn't feel anything and the I fucking earned it and scratches that. She's not one for a scene at charities then. He can still hear the anger loud and clear, despite her restraint. "You just couldn't help yourself, could you. You just had to stake your claim."

"Donna –"

"Which is not only insulting and completely out of line but also makes no sense considering the fact you showed no interest in doing it when it actually counted."

Harvey looks at her puzzled, but she's waving it off, clearly not in the mood to rehash history tonight. For once, he wishes she would. He feels like they've been trading meaningless words for years now.

He's not the one to break with tradition, though. "Listen, Donna, I'm sorry if it came across that way, but I'm telling you I —"

"No. Don't do that. Don't you _dare_ make me feel like I'm the irrational one, after you just spent fifty thousand dollars in a glorified pissing contest. That was humiliating."

He works his jaw, because she's right. That's exactly what it was. He can't admit to it, so instead he decides to be petulant. He's good at that. "Hey, I wasn't the only one bidding," he defends. "I don't see you chewing _his_ ass off."

"He," she inhales; he's testing her patience. "Is not the topic of this conversation."

"What _is_ the topic, Donna?"

"You really don't see anything wrong with what you did?"

"Maybe I just wanted to save you from having to date someone you work with." He's good at being petty, too. "Maybe if you told me that was no longer a rule you cared about, I could have made a more informed decision."

Resting her forearm on the bar, her voice is cool when she responds, "You have something to say to me, Harvey, just say it."

Running his tongue over the backs of his teeth, he feels it on the tip of it; all the things he wants to tell her. He bites down on every single one. "No. Not a damn thing." He downs the drink, motions for another. "Look, you don't have to worry. About this dinner date. I won't hold you to it."

Donna huffs, nodding. "No, of course you won't. You never do," she murmurs but he hears her alright.

"What did you just say to me?"

"Nothing, Harvey." She looks at him and her eyes are filled with every single disappointment he's ever been to her. "Not a damn thing." She motions her head at the scotch being put before him, "Enjoy your drink. Happy New Year, Harvey."

He watches her walk away, her bare back and her red hair and his last chance at happiness, and he wishes he knew how to stop screwing this up.

"You know," he hears Scottie coming to join him and he closes his eyes. This can only be good, and he is so not in the mood for it. "One of these days you're going to get your head out of your ass and ask her out the adult way." She turns her head to him after Donna disappears from their view. "But by then she'll be with someone else."

Trust Scottie to kick him when he's down.

"She's already seeing someone else."

He thinks he knew it as soon as he saw Kessler with her. He certainly knew it when he started the bidding war. Kessler wasn't there just because he was on the guest list. He was there as Donna's unofficial date. Possibly a first date; no more than a second or third. They didn't arrive together because it's still new. Because Harvey was there. His jaw clenches at the thought. He hates the implication.

"If you're not careful, Harvey, she'll be your one that got away."

"Scottie," he turns to her because now he's getting pissed. "What are you doing?"

"Just giving you some friendly advice."

Harvey purses his lips in annoyance. "For someone who insists on giving me dating tips, you sure are remarkably single."

That strikes a nerve, like he knew it would. "At least I haven't been pining after someone for years, like a lovesick puppy."

He gives her a pointed look, "Haven't you?"

Scottie nods, her lips a thin line. "You're such a dick, Harvey, you know that."

He does. He really fucking does. He's not in the mood to stop. "I guess that's a no to sex then."

He thinks she's going to say something scathing back. At least a good ol' screw you Harvey for auld lang syne; it's what they do, after all. Instead, the look on her face is almost pitying. "You know, Harvey," she leans in. "Donna is a beautiful intelligent fascinating woman. One of these days one of those guys is bound to stick. And you're going to end up all alone, convinced that's exactly what you deserve."

She sets her drink down on the bar and then she's walking off into the crowd and Harvey is left standing there, feeling like a grade a asshole. Again.

He leans back, his jaw tensing when he spots Kessler as he leads Donna to the dancefloor. He's smiling down at her as he places his hand on her naked back. Her fingers curl around his shoulder as she steps into him. She says something witty and he laughs, makes her smile turn bashful in return.

"Another one," he tells the bartender without turning.

The Michael Buble wannabe on stage sings about kissing a fool as Harvey watches her be happy with somebody else. Harvey digs his nails into his palm and drinks.

.

He's returning from the men's room having relieved some of the copious amounts of scotch he's drunk – and really, he should pace himself, it's not even eleven yet - contemplating whether it's even worth it, going back inside, when he sees Kessler walking towards him. Harvey doesn't acknowledge him except for the way his jaw sets and his shoulders square, and okay. He's probably radiating animosity.

"Is this going to be a thing?"

Harvey turns around immediately. "Excuse me?"

"I just want to know if this," he motions between them. "Is going to present a problem."

"There's no problem."

"Listen, Harvey," he starts, then "Can I call you Harvey?" Harvey refrains from rolling his eyes, but just about. He doesn't give a fuck what he calls him. He very nearly says that except for the fact the guy is still a client, Louis' client, a fact he brings up next. "I've been a client of your firm's for years and I don't intend on switching legal advice any time soon."

"That's reassuring to know."

"Excellent," he agrees. "What might not be so reassuring is the fact I also plan on dating Donna." Kessler's face is earnest when he adds, "So I'm asking again. Is any of this going to be a problem."

"Keppler," Harvey purses his lips, "Can I call you Keppler?" Kessler's lips give a tug, but otherwise he doesn't give Harvey the satisfaction. "What Donna does in her own time is none of my business."

"Is that so?" Harvey says nothing and Kessler presses on, "Because you sure made it your business earlier."

Getting a lecture from Donna is pretty low on his list of favorite pastimes, but she's usually right and he usually deserves it. She's also Donna. The hell if he'll stand here and take it from her goddamn date.

"She never mentioned she was seeing someone." And by the look on Kessler's face, Harvey can tell he'd have preferred it if she had shouted it from the rooftops. He cashes in on that. "In fact, she said she was coming here alone. For all I knew, you were just some creep bidding on my COO."

Kessler recovers quick, he'll give him that. "And for all I knew, you were just some creep bidding on my date."

He really fucking hates that word. "No, you didn't."

Kessler nods, "No, you're right. Of course I know who you are. I've been your client for years and your reputation precedes you." He looks at him evenly, "What I don't know is what's gone on between you two in the past, but it doesn't matter because when I asked Donna out she was single. And she said yes. So whatever beef you may have? It's not with me."

And that hits a nerve, hearing him dismiss his history with Donna as a nonconsequential non-issue. Harvey bites. When it comes to Donna, Harvey always bites. "Listen to me." Taking two steps towards the other man, he says in a conversational tone, "I'm really glad you and Donna seem to be hitting it off. In fact, I'm goddamn ecstatic for you. But I've known Donna for fourteen years and you've known her for fourteen days." He takes another step until he's in his face. "So you go on your date and you give it your best shot, buddy. Just remember that I –"

"That's enough!"

They both turn to find Donna standing at the bottom of the corridor, looking appropriately pissed off. Taking a breath and taking a step back, Harvey meets her unwavering stare with one of his own; he's not taking anything back tonight.

She blinks and swallows, giving her head a small shake. He gets it. Walking away from Kessler, he heads towards the lobby.

"I think I've had enough of the festivities for one night," his fingers tug at the cuff of his suits sleeve as he passes her. "I'll see you next week."

.

He's just stepped outside and is tucking his scarf inside his overcoat when he hears her behind him.

"What the hell is your problem?"

He turns around to see Donna walking through the revolving door to catch up with him and he's just the right amount of drunk that he embraces it. He's been gunning for a fight for hours.

He's been gunning for a fight for months.

He stops, asking, "What if I was?"

"What?"

"What if I was," he comes closer, his stride purposeful. "Staking a claim."

"You're drunk."

"No, I'm sick and tired," he takes a step closer. "Of skirting around the issue."

"And what issue would that be, Harvey?" she challenges. "Me having the audacity to have a life that doesn't involve you?"

"Well, Donna, you know what," he shrugs petulantly, "It could have been worse. At least I didn't kiss you."

Anger flashes in her eyes. "You're a dick, Harvey, you know that."

He shrugs, "You're not the first person to tell me that tonight."

"Scottie always was a woman after my own heart."

"No, she wasn't. And neither was Zoe and it certainly wasn't Paula." He is so tired of her bullshit. "You pretended they were, but they weren't."

He can see that's struck a nerve. "Just like you were okay with all the guys I've dated?" she points out, thumb to the hotel behind her. "Just like you're okay with Thomas. That whole fiasco inside, I guess that's you giving us your blessing."

"I'm not giving you my blessing, Donna." He fixes her with a hard stare; he thinks it affects her, but it's been so hard to tell recently. It's been so hard to tell, in general. "Because Paula is off the table and Scottie is off the table, and both somehow ties straight back to you."

She's shaking her head, "Is this what this is about? You're having trouble getting laid tonight?"

"I'm having trouble getting laid, period." He walks away from her, getting some space. Turning back around, he tells her what he's wanted to tell her for months. "You may have found out what you needed to know that night, but you know what? So did I," he shrugs. "And now here you are, moving on with this Kessler guy, and I'm still stuck in your goddamn office, kissing you back!" His palms drop to his sides.

That does affect her, he can tell that much, by the way her breath catches and her face freezes, and he might as well have told her she knows he loves her, because that's exactly what he's reminded of.

It's possible he's drunker than he thought. It's possible he's more desperate than he thought.

"Harvey," she says, taking a tentative step closer, his name sad on her lips.

And that wasn't his intention. He doesn't want to be the cause of that, the unhappy note in her voice, the pitying look on her face. Maybe that should be his New Year's resolution.

He needs to stop picking at this particular wound and just let it heal already.

Letting out a deep breath, he closes the distance between them. His voice is much softer when he says, "I hope he deserves you, Donna, I really do. He's a lucky man." His smile is wry as he presses his lips to her cheekbone. "Goodnight, Donna."

Ray is waiting for him at a discreet distance and he nods his gratitude as he gets in the car. He is determined not to look back.

He's ending this year the way he's started it, alone, because when all is said and done, no amount of Scotties and Paulas amount to Donna.

Looking out of the tinted window of the limo, at the drunk and the happy, he thinks about all he never did. The fact he never made his move feels anything but irrelevant now.

Feels like a wasted life.

.

 _tbc in part II_


	2. Chapter 2

.

He goes to the firm.

The whole building is empty, the corridors of their offices dark and deserted; it compliments his mood perfectly. He stops in front of the reception desk, looks left to his office, but turns right towards hers. Reaching it, he stops in the doorway, leaning against the glass. There's a vase with fresh flowers on her desk, and he knows it's from him and he knows he should leave well enough alone.

He walks over and fishes out the card.

 _It's been a pleasure working with you, Donna. Here's hoping we are just as compatible outside of the offices. T.K._

Harvey rolls his eyes, flicking the card away. It lands on her desk. He doesn't waste any time, he'll give him that. Fourteen days instead of fourteen years. He still hates his guts, but he can't say he doesn't get it. Donna is not someone a man would want slipping between his fingers.

Not unless he was a complete idiot.

Exiting her office, he considers going back to his own, getting blindingly drunk and passing out, but he thinks better of it. He goes back for the elevators and presses the button for the roof. He wants to see the city welcoming the new year. Afterwards, who knows. The original plan of sofa and scotch still looks pretty damn good.

.

The air is cold and smells of winter. Harvey takes a lungful of it, feels it burn in his chest, feels it clear his head. He's been standing there for long enough his feet are starting to get cold when he hears the doors behind him and knows it's her. He knows her step.

"Couldn't find somewhere warmer to stew?" she asks, approaching him.

"I needed to cool off," he replies because it's true. "How did you know I'd be here?"

"Well, actually," she comes to stand next to him. "I figured you'd be getting drunk in your office." His lips tug against his will. "But then I found it empty and this was my next stop." She leans against the wall, her hands in the pockets of her coat.

Sometimes it scares him that she knows him as well as she does. "Shouldn't you be at the gala anyway?" _With your date_ is unsaid but understood.

"I've had enough of the festivities for one night."

Harvey hangs his head, closing his eyes. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"It only just happened. There's not that much to tell."

Neither mention the fact that she doesn't owe him an explanation in the first place.

Harvey nods. "I hate being blindsided."

"I know."

"It bothers me," he says into the corner of his mouth, sneaking a sideways glance at her.

"I figured that. Subtle as it was."

Harvey smiles, looking away. He didn't include the usual addendum, the "it doesn't mean" crap that's lost its credibility a good long while ago. He's trying truth for size tonight.

"We smile and drink and flirt, and we do it more than we ever did," he muses quietly. "You're the one I call when my brother is getting a divorce. Hell, you're the one my brother calls when he's getting a divorce."

"I guess I am."

"Our normal isn't normal, is it," he glances at her for confirmation. Considering he just spent fifty grand instead of telling her he wants to be the one kissing her at midnight – kissing her at any time of any day – he thinks the question is pretty rhetorical.

Donna smiles down at her hands as they fold on the concrete wall. "No. It's not."

He turns back to the city. "I never realized. We've always just been," he pauses. "Us."

"Don't feel too bad. I was pretty clueless about a lot of it for a long time, too. And I'm so much better at this than you." He can hear a smile in her voice, and that's a relief. And then it's gone. "All of them saw it. Mark. Scottie and Paula. Thomas." She snorts, "God, even Stephen Huntley saw it."

He wants to ask what "it" is, but he's pretty sure "it" cannot be put into words. He kind of knows, anyway. "So just us then."

"Just us."

And that sounds about right, and it sounds perfect.

But it's not just them, not in that way. And he had his chance – he had several, in fact – and now he owes her an apology. She shouldn't be skipping on parties and dates on New Year's Eve to nurse his pride on the rooftop of an empty building.

"I'm sorry for ruining your night, Donna," he mumbles. Deserved or not, apologies never did come easy to him. "I was an ass."

Next to him, Donna lets out an undignified snort. "That's one way of putting it."

Harvey moves his jaw in a hopeless effort to hide a smile. "How would you put it."

"A huge fucking idiot."

"Wow," his eyebrows skyrocket. "Can't believe I paid fifty grand for such a potty mouth."

"Buyer's regrets?" she asks, tipping her head inquisitively.

Never. But also, "Yeah. I shouldn't have done that."

"Can you repeat that? I want to record it this time."

Harvey makes a face, but then he catches her eyes, his words serious, "I really am sorry, Donna."

Donna sighs, shrugging, "Let's face it. That whole auction was just a disaster waiting to happen." She lifts her hand, palm up. "Personally, I blame Louis."

"Seems fair," he agrees. She lets him off too easily. She usually does.

He feels them slipping into their normal again, except it doesn't fill him with a sense of ease or reassurance. Instead, he feels slightly irritated. He looks over at her. She's looking out at the city lights, her hair in her coat, her arms hugging her middle. It's started to snow, and her hair is peppered with white flecks. He wants to run his fingers over them, feel them melt under his touch. Feel her melt under his touch.

He wonders when he became such a sap. Realizes with stark clarity she's always been his soft spot, his greatest weakness.

Their normal is the farthest thing from.

He hears singing somewhere down below. Donna hears it, too, because she starts humming. He loves her voice.

He loves everything about her.

"I think it's happening."

Her voice brings him out of his reverie. "What is?"

"The new year," she lifts her finger and puts it in front of her ear. "Can you hear that?"

The city is quieter. Somewhere in the distance, he hears the countdown. It's not quite passionate enough to be the final ten. Glancing down at his watch, he sees they still have about thirty seconds left.

"I guess we're ringing in the new year at Zane Specter Litt Wheeler Williams."

She turns to face him. "That just shaved off at least ten seconds."

He smiles at the dig but he's really smiling at her. A snowflake lands on her nose and she brushes it away.

 _She'll move on and you'll end up alone._

Another snowflake catches on her eyelashes. She blinks and then his arm is moving of its own accord, his thumb gently brushing it away. He sees her throat bob and her lips part. He stares at them.

"Donna," he starts but is interrupted by ten, nine, eight.

He licks his lips and she does the same. Taking a step closer – five – he can feel her breath washing over his face, so warm against the cold.

She's seeing someone.

Only just.

It's New Year's Eve.

It's an excuse.

There are bangs and cheers as the clock strikes midnight and they enter the new year.

Harvey takes the plunge.

Closing the distance, he presses his mouth against hers softly. Her eyes are hooded and he looks at her for a long moment as his lips start to move against her gently, and then he's closing his eyes as she softly returns the kiss. His thumb brushes along her jaw, fingers digging into her hair as the fireworks explode over them.

"Happy New Year, Donna," he murmurs against her lips.

"Happy New Year, Harvey."

Pulling away, he forces himself to step back. His hand slips from her face and down her hair, his thumb lingering on the skin below her ear before he retrieves his hand completely. They look at each other for a moment, neither moving. Taking a deep breath, he turns his head to the exit. "Come on, it's freezing. Let's get you back to the party."

He's halfway across the roof when he hears, "Wait, that's it?" He turns around to find Donna hasn't moved except to turn and stare incredulously at him. "We're just leaving it like this. Again?"

He wonders if she's comparing it to the time he told her he loved her or the time she kissed him and fled. Maybe both. They have a lot of unfinished conversations.

There are about a dozen different thoughts running through his head, so he latches on to the most pressing one. "You're on a date."

"Am I," she asks, lifting her arms in question. "Cause it seems to me like I'm on a rooftop with you, freezing my ass off and having the same conversation we've been having in one form or another for well over a decade now!"

"What are you saying?"

She takes a tentative step forward but doesn't advance any further. "Why did you kiss me, Harvey?" It's barely above a whisper.

He knows why and he thinks she should, too. "What do you think, Donna," he says, mouth pulling to the side, eyes never leaving hers. It's a rhetorical question that's not a question at all. It's an answer.

Donna disagrees. "I think," she starts and he can already tell she's wrong. "It's New Year's Eve and it's natural, to feel lonely, to wonder about the future. And seeing me with someone else on top of all the recent upheavals –"

He looks at her blankly as she ticks off all the things she thinks would make him kiss her. All except the fucking truth.

She notices his expression because she stops. "What?"

"I was just wondering how someone who prides herself on knowing people so well can be so incredibly wrong about this."

"Am I, though?"

"I wasn't honoring a tradition, Donna," he exclaims, his hand waving at the spot where he kissed her. "That wasn't some perfunctory kiss because it was midnight and you were the only one here."

She's staring at him, her mouth parted, unblinking. He shakes his head in disbelief; for all her emotional intelligence and intuitive nature and perceptive mind, it's going to have to be him who finally puts it into words.

"Okay, you want to know why I kissed you, Donna? Here it is," he takes a step in a subconscious gesture. "I kissed you because, yeah, it's New Year's Eve, which means I'm looking at another year where I don't get to have the one thing that I actually want." His gaze never falters from hers, no matter how strong the instinct is. "And the thought of you moving on doesn't just bother me. It's fucking killing me," he says, getting the words out before his brain catches up with his mouth.

Her lips form an o and he thinks she's going to say something, but he's started now and he's going to goddamn finish it.

"I'm tired of not having this conversation and missing my chance, but mostly I'm just tired of not kissing you." He purses his lips, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. "I kissed you because I love you, Donna. That's how I love you. You wanted to know how? This is how!"

He feels out of breath, like he's just run a mile instead of simply saying what's been on his mind for most of the night. For most of the decade.

It takes a moment for Donna to get her bearings, and he sees the exact moment she does. Taking a deep breath, she moves a step closer to him. "After you left," she says quietly, looking down at her shoes and the thin white layer of snow underneath them. "I told Thomas we wouldn't be seeing each other anymore."

Harvey's heart feels like it's going to beat its way out of his chest. "You did."

"I did."

"Why?"

She arches an eyebrow at him. "Are you seriously that clueless?"

He thinks he might be. But then he thinks about her dating someone else and not feeling anything and maybe he's not so much clueless as she's really bad at giving clues. "Let's just say I like a safe bet."

He expects her to roll her eyes at him while covering up a smile; it's what usually happens when he's being obtuse. Instead, the look she gives him is open and serious and significant. "It's been how many years, Harvey? And I'm still here, ringing in yet another year with you. What the hell more do you want?"

Not a goddamn thing.

Striding across the concrete, he's in front of her in three long steps and then his hands are on her waist and his lips press against hers, firm and sure. It's not gentle or tentative this time, he isn't testing the waters. He's diving in, head first, and that's not something he saw himself ever doing.

Donna loves proving him wrong.

He feels her mouth open under his, catching on his upper lip as her fingers press into his chest, travelling under the collar of his coat. He hums when he feels them sneaking under his scarf and brushing the side of his neck, his tongue sliding against her bottom lip. He tilts his head to the other side, changing the angle of the kiss, deepening it further. Leaning into him, her arms slide around his neck, her nails on the back of his head and the sensation travels all the way down his spine.

It's really cold now, but he doesn't feel it with Donna pressed against him, her warm open mouth moving against his as she lets her tongue glide along his own. Groaning, he tightens his hold on her and pulls her tighter against him, walking them back to the door.

"Where are we going?" she murmurs between kisses.

"Somewhere we don't risk dying of hypothermia," he feels for the handle. "I don't want our first kiss this year to also be our last."

Donna pulls back slightly. "No," she says, her thumbs brushing the spot behind his ears. "We wouldn't want it to be the last."

He's going for a satisfied smirk but all he manages is a happy smile. "Definitely not."

His lips brush against hers as he presses the handle and pulls her inside.

"So, what were you planning to do after you were done brooding on the roof?"

Harvey shoots her a look. She can be such a smartass sometimes. "I had a date with that bottle of scotch in my office."

Donna looks at him, cocking her head and lifting her eyebrow in silent suggestion.

He gets the message. "Donna," he says her name in that low tone he knows for a fact gets to her. "Would you like to join me for drinks in my office?"

Scanning his face, her eyes land on his lip. She bites her own. "I really hope that's a euphemism for sex." Her voice is sultry and Harvey feels himself responding.

His hand is firm on her back as they make their way downstairs.

.

The ride down to their floor isn't long but it is excruciating.

They're standing close enough to touch, but it's as if neither dares to do it; as if the slightest contact would make it impossible to make it to his office.

She gets out of the elevator first, and she's just starting to round the corner for his office when he stops her. His hand on her wrist, he yanks her back as he steps forward and she doesn't have time to react before he's kissing her. She moans, her mouth opening to him, her hands grabbing his face to pull him closer. They stumble down the corridor to his office, his hands on her hips guiding her back as she parts his scarf. His coat is next and she pushes it off his shoulders just as he backs her up against his closed office door.

"Fuck, Donna," he breathes. "I can't believe," he pauses, trying to catch his breath.

"That we're about to fuck in your office?"

Harvey lifts his head to find her smirking. "I was gonna say that it's taken us this long to do this." Her face softens at his words as his expression turns playful, "But the other thing, too."

"Well, if we were ever going to do it, tonight's the night," she says as she opens the glass door. "The building is completely empty."

He follows her inside, his two fingers hooking around her own. "People are out celebrating," he points out.

"There's a lot to celebrate," she says, a significance to her words. Taking her coat off, she places it on the armchair next to her.

He takes her in, standing there in her red dress that goes just perfectly with her red hair and pale skin; here in his office, with him. He has to agree. "There sure is."

She turns around and goes for his drinks tray. Pouring them each a scotch, she walks over to him and hands him his glass. "Thought we should have one. It's tradition after all."

He raises a little toast at her and she smiles as she does the same. She's sipping on hers, but he finishes his in record time, placing it on the table next to him.

"Impatient, are we," she chuckles, eyeing his glass.

"Don't get me wrong, Donna," he says, stepping closer to her. "I enjoyed each and every one of our drinking sessions. But if I have a choice between having a drink and having you on my desk, I know which one I'm choosing."

Letting out a bemused chuckle, Donna says, "I knew you had a desk fantasy."

"Of course I have a desk fantasy."

He watches as she walks over to the desk, running a finger along it and he feels himself harden at the sight. Putting her unfinished drink down, she props herself up, pulling on her dress a little so it bunches up around her thighs, and sits herself on the edge. Harvey watches her, the tip of his tongue touching his back teeth. "Donna," he says, his voice just a little strained. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" And she has a point, it was a stupid question. "Happy New Year, Harvey," she says and he wants to chuckle at that but he suddenly finds it hard to swallow.

He approaches her slowly, unbuttoning the cuffs on his sleeves, undoing his tie, taking her in. Strawberries and whipped cream aside, this really is the ultimate fantasy.

Happy New Year to him is right.

Closing the distance, he runs a gentle finger over her cheek, pushing her hair away and behind her ear. Tilting her head up and leaning in, she places a gentle kiss on his lips. The movement makes his hand slip in her hair, his fingers threading through the soft strands.

"Show me," she reaches out for his hand, places it on her thigh. "Show me what you've wanted to do to me here over the last twelve years."

"Fuck, Donna."

"That's a start," she comments and he groans.

With both hands on top of her thighs, he bunches the dress under his fingers, pushing the material up her legs slowly. Spreading his palms, he runs them back down then up again, never once looking away from her face. Her lips part on a breath when he hitches her dress all the way up to her hips and he wants to take pride in that, that she seems so affected by his ministrations, but he's too fucking gone himself to bask in that now.

Returning to her knees, he hooks his fingers behind them, bringing her closer to the edge of the desk, her panties now just barely brushing against his erection. Moving forward, he presses against her and she moans.

His hands fly to her hips, his thumbs sliding along the apex of her thighs then just above her pussy as he kisses her, long and hard, their tongues meeting in a desperate need to taste. Her hands find his belt as her knees close around him. He puts his on the outside of her left knee, bringing it up and holding it there. Lets her undo his belt and unbutton his pants because he's getting uncomfortable.

Just as her fingers find his erection, Harvey stops her. "Wait."

"Why," Donna whines and he nearly laughs at how eager and frustrated she sounds.

"Because," he explains, his thumb caressing her palm as he drags it away. "You wanted me to show you what I've been wanting to do to you on this desk." He pushes her gently down until she's resting on her elbows, her eyes dark and expecting. "And that's exactly what I intend to do."

Licking her lips, Donna gives him a small nod and Harvey's lips quirk in a smile. Tearing his eyes away, he looks down her body, her heaving chest and her long legs; her red underwear peeking from where her dress is riding up at her middle.

He's unsure where to start. There are too many things he's wanted to do to her – with her – over the years. Taking a moment, he indulges in just looking at her, splayed in front of him and looking up at him with amusement and desire and love, Jesus Christ, so much love, and he really has been clueless.

Donna can make anyone feel like they're the most important person in the room. She's always made him feel like he's the most important person to her.

Running his fingers up her calves and over her knees, he pushes her legs apart, his fingers skimming along the insides of her thighs. She gives a moan as he reaches the edge of her panties, feels along the edge, runs his thumb across just to see how she reacts. He finds her already wet and it's him thrusting forward, groaning deep in his throat.

He wants to run his hands all over the bare skin of her stomach, but the dress is in the way. The sound out of his throat is one of frustration, "I didn't think this through."

She doesn't seem to mind, her hips circling, looking for friction. "Harvey," she urges, but he stills her hips, pretty damn impressed with his own self-control.

He's too turned on to demand she get off the desk and unzip her dress, so he makes do and it's pretty high up there as fantasies go. Pushing her knees down, he gives his thumb and index a quick suck before he places them over her panties, feeling her swollen clit underneath the material.

Moaning, she collapses until she's lying flat across his desk, her palm flying to her forehead as he rubs wet circles on her clit. Blindly feeling for the lacy edge, he watches her face as he sneaks his thumb inside. The way she screws her eyes shut when he presses down; the way her lips fall apart as he starts to lazily massage the sensitive bundle of nerves.

"Jesus, Harvey," she swallows down the words and they come out broken.

Moving his thumb down, he feels her wetness, smears it up and over her. When he goes to do it again, she pushes her hips forward in blatant invitation.

"Patience," he murmurs.

Moving her hand from her forehead, she cracks her eyes open to look at him. "Harvey, I've been patient for twelve years. I've had enough of waiting."

God, he can relate to that sentiment.

Pulling her panties down her legs, he takes them off, takes her shoes with them and they fall to the floor with a thud. Grabbing her hips, he pulls her forward until her naked pussy is pressed against his hardon; he rubs fervently against her.

He trails his hands up her sides and over her breasts, cupping them. She's not wearing a bra and her nipples peak through the material as he runs his fingers over them; her hips buckle up off the desk. She takes him by the wrist and brings his hand to her mouth. She looks him straight in the eye before she sucks on two of his fingers and then it's him thrusting forward because shit _goddammit_.

She releases his fingers with a plop. "Please."

He slides the two fingers slowly inside her pussy, watching her head fall back as he fills her. "Is this what you want?"

She nods, clenching around him, "More."

He adds a third finger and God she feels so tight. Pulling them out, he pushes back again, her hips starting to move in time with him fucking her, and he brings his other hand down, placing the thumb over her clit just as he curls the fingers inside her.

"Shit," she cries out, pushing up to sitting, as one of her hands grabs the back of his neck and pulls him down for a kiss. Throwing her legs around him, she moans into his mouth, "Harvey. It's time for you to come inside."

He thanks God, the stars, the universe that he doesn't come right then and there.

He pushes his pants down and she fusses with his underwear until both are around his calves and he's sliding into her hand. "I wanted to," he pauses when she smears his precome over his throbbing tip.

"You were saying?" she has the audacity to ask.

Fingers sliding out of her and over her clit, he says, "I wanted to do more."

Her eyes flutter closed as he continues to tease her soaking pussy. "There's time for all that, Harvey."

His hand stills when the truth of it sinks in. There's time for everything. Forehead resting against hers, he nods, "I guess there is."

Giving his dick a slow stroke, she guides it to her, rubbing herself with the tip. He's so goddamn sensitive and she's so incredibly wet. Looking down between them, he watches as she brings herself pleasure with his cock, making them both skirt on the edges of an orgasm.

"Donna," he grunts as his hands travel up, roaming her sides and her back, thumbing along her clavicle. "Donna, please."

She pulls back a little, her breathing labored but her eyes suddenly clear and there's something there. Something relevant. She scoots that bit forward and he feels her guide him to her entrance. He holds his breath and her stare, forcing himself to stay still and not push into her like he desperately wants to.

"What?" he asks because it's clearly something.

She shakes her head once. "I'm never leaving you, Harvey," she says, quiet and certain. "Ever. No matter what." Her brow softens, her face solemn, "I just need you to know that." He frowns because he has no idea where the hell this is coming from, but he'll take it. He'll fucking take it.

"Okay," he says simply because he doesn't really know what else to say.

"Okay," she nods, content that he knows.

And he does. He's sure he'll think his way out of that knowledge a hundred times over just like he has done in the past, but he knows it in his bones.

Him and Donna, they're forever.

A small push of his hips and he's inside her, feeling her stretch and mould to accommodate him and he takes his time. They have plenty of it.

He's pulling her into him with hands on her spine and on the back of her head, grasping for hair and skin and her. His nose is aligned with hers and she nudges it, his head tipping to one side, to the other, their eyes locked as he fucks her slowly, deliberately.

With each thrust, he fills her completely, hitting her in just the right place. He feels her nails dig into his thigh, his buttock, urging him to go harder. Her eyes start to close and a moan escapes her lips and he captures it with his own. She returns the kiss, catching his lip between her teeth then soothing it with her tongue.

Chasing her lips, he falls forward, one hand on the desk, the other under her ass, her fingers around his neck for support as he fucks her faster. He still has his shirt on and his tie dangles undone around his neck, and this is everything he ever fantasized about, and it's nothing like it at all. This is more.

His head falls to her chest, his lips and tongue on her skin, and she cradles him there as he pounds into her, her breath hot in his hair. Fingers under her find their way to her clit and it doesn't take much, even with the awkward angle, to make her come. She digs her fingers into his scalp, her heel on the back of his thigh as she becomes rigid in his arms, under his fingers, around his cock, clenching and unclenching, bringing him to the very edge.

He lifts his head to see her let go, her head cast backwards and her lip between her teeth, and he keeps his eyes right there as he speeds up, needy and desperate, so close, so fucking –

"Let go," she says and he didn't even realize she's opened her eyes and is looking at him, and God, it's Donna, in his office, on his desk, under him and around him. Harvey closes his eyes as he spills inside her, his head falling to her chest, muffling the moans into her skin.

They stay like that for awhile. He runs his fingers everywhere as he softens inside her and she makes a mess of his hair.

"Happy New Year to us," he hums, kissing her shoulder.

This year is going to be good. It's going to be theirs.

.

Eventually, the desk becomes too hard and the office too cold, so they clean up – each other and the office; her whiskey glass they find next to his desk, having been knocked over at some point – and head home. He's not sure where home is and he doesn't think she is, either, but they're going somewhere and they're going there together, so he doesn't really think it matters.

They're exiting the elevator into the lobby when he remembers.

"So, you gonna tell me what Louis promised you in exchange for doing the auction?"

"Nope," she replies, being difficult.

"See, that won't work," he points out. "We're together now, you can't keep secrets in a relationship."

He's waving his arm to emphasize his point, looking over at her, except she's not there. Turning around, he sees her a few steps behind.

Smiling.

He rolls his eyes. "What."

"Nothing," she catches up, linking her arm in his.

They exit the building into a flurry of white. He turns to her. "I'm really glad I bought you, Donna."

That takes her by surprise and she laughs, smacking his shoulder. Ray comes round to open the door for them. "Joke's on you, mister," she smirks, bringing her lips to his ear. "I was yours all along."

She ducks inside the car, leaving him standing there, getting covered in snow, grinning like a goddamn idiot.

 _Fin._


End file.
